


Vicissitudes

by Souen



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Betrayal, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Marvel 616 References, POV Tony Stark, References to Depression, Tony Stark Has Issues, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souen/pseuds/Souen
Summary: “I trust you,” he lies, in the end. It's the way it is. He doesn't trust Steve not to cheat, not because he thinks Steve is a bad person. He just knows Steve is out of his league.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71
Collections: Team Angst





	Vicissitudes

**Author's Note:**

> For the Betrayal square of the Stevetony games bingo. 
> 
> Be warned: this is a story written by a fanartist. I'm usually better at doodling than I am at drabbling. But I wanted to make myself cry and give Team Angst my support. I hope you guys cry too.
> 
> Special thanks to my wonderful, incredible, amazing beta [angstony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstony), who took on the challenge of helping me make sense of this mess. Please follow and support their work ♥

Tony meets Steve. When they click, it's unexpected. 

Tony works a boring office job, clocks in at nine every morning and yawns his days away in front of insurance forms. He has a couple of close friends and a decent relationship with his mom. His hobbies include tennis every other weekend, building circuit boards from internet tutorials, and practicing his rusty french by watching old Brigitte Bardot flicks at home.

Steve doesn't really have a stable job, but he's very consistent with his workout routines and always looks like he just stepped out the cover of a Calvin Klein editorial. He drives a vintage Harley, none of his denims are whole, and as cliché as it may sound - he makes it work. 

Under ordinary circumstances, Tony and Steve would have never met.

As unlikely as it was, it happened - thanks to social media and Tony's lonely antics during a particularly sad Friday night.

Someone from work added him to a group chat full of random people looking to hook up, and Steve happened to be there. Tony's lonely brain was foggy enough to privately reply to one of Steve’s messages. 

The buff, statuesque blonde had attached a photo of himself, gray scaled and cropped to a carefully curated angle that showed just the perfect amount of v-line and pectoral muscles. _I'd love to take you out,_ Tony had said, feeling bolder than usual. 

Then, surprisingly, Steve responded: _And I'd love to have you._

_-_

Tony thinks Steve is too good for him. Everybody likes Steve.

Take Johnny, for example. Johnny is smart and pretty; the movie star type of good-looking that hurts to look at after a while. He's witty, sharp and _strategic_ ; collected around peers, but ready to display all his best angles to people worth impressing. He's an overachiever, well on his way to the top, ready to conquer. Unstoppable. 

There's James, too. Steve’s childhood friend radiates a charm that only youth can provide. That's a particular kind of pain for Tony, who's nearing his forties and feels like he has nothing to offer. At least, nothing like the tight skin, painted nails, and carefree attitude that James possesses. Whenever Steve smiles at his phone with a genuine glow on his lovely face, it's sure to be James teasing him on the other side. 

In the beginning, though, Steve seems to only have eyes for Tony. When they first meet in person, they go to the beach together, where Steve ends up holding Tony amongst the waves. Tony feels like merfolk: as if discovering a whole new world in a daze; willing to trade his soul for a set of legs to walk by Steve’s side forever. 

He doesn't give up anything. Not yet. They just kiss and drink beer, watching the sunset together before getting back on Steve's car and driving away. On the ride back, they plan for a second date in between muted smiles and laced fingers. 

Tony is thrilled. 

Things start to develop from there. Casually, gradually. Steve takes Tony to a nightclub and they dance, sweaty, hot bodies pressed one against the other. Tony doesn't mention that this is his first time going out in a couple of years. It would be kind of uncool, and he's careful not to display his _uncoolness_ around Steve. He doesn't want to embarrass himself that way, not in front of Steve, who drinks whiskey like it's water and whose leather jackets always smell of gym soap and smoke.

James is there, too, all rugged good looks and the same sense of style that only him and Steve seem to pull off well. Tony knows he probably doesn't mean to - but the way James eyes him up and down with a lopsided smile makes him question, for the first time, if there isn't some unknown bet going on that he has yet to hear about. 

There are many parts of himself he needs to disguise or embellish, after that. It becomes a common occurrence in Tony's life. In order to captivate Steve, he sticks to a provocative image of dark, loose clothes and cloudy eyes. It's the adventurous Tony that Steve likes. The Tony who drinks alcohol like it doesn't make his stomach churn, who'll suck him off in a parking lot or even on the dance floor if he's wasted enough.

Steve is worth it. Waking up next to him and cooking him breakfast, being able to see his sleepy smile first thing in the morning, it makes it all worth it.

Dressed down and domestic, Tony doesn't feel as appealing as his other self. For now, Steve seems alright with it. 

  
  


-

One day, Steve brings up Johnny; it's unexpected, too. Tony thinks he knows who he's talking about, but his memory strains. It's hard to think about other people lately. His mind is full. Eventually, he remembers, or rather, Steve forces him to. Johnny is someone from that chatroom who Tony happened to see every now and then around his office building hallways. A young intern, perhaps. No doubt much fresher than Tony. Attractive, too, all sharp angles and stunning blue eyes, certainly magnetic. He didn't know Johnny had reached out to Steve that night as well. 

An uncomfortable feeling creeps up Tony's spine at the thought. 

“Johnny asked me out today,” Steve says, out of the blue in the middle of their conversation.

Tony blinks, unevenly but attentively, waiting for his lover to elaborate.

“He's been all over me for a while.”

There's something rehearsed about the way he says it, and Tony imagines he might have been bracing for a bout of jealousy. He understands, but he isn't really that kind of person. He knows everyone likes Steve and it's no surprise he's got an admirer. 

Tony can't think badly of Steve. 

They've been together for a couple of months now, sleeping in each other's arms, fucking like it's always the last time. So he nods and listens. 

Steve tells him all about it. How Johnny came on, confident and proud. How Steve had seen it coming, because Johnny kept being affectionate and open with him, as opposed to his cold mannerisms towards everyone else. James had noticed, as well. 

Steve tells Tony it still surprised him, because he'd always talk to Johnny about Tony, about how they're happily dating.

“Johnny says he doesn't care. He knows I'm with you, but he doesn't mind.”

Tony catches up quickly. _Do_ you _mind?_ Is how Steve probably wants to end that phrase. Of course Tony minds. He wants to trust Steve, but he also knows he's beginning to love him deeply and doesn't like the idea of someone else trying to take him away. Still, he can't tear down the image he's so carefully crafted. He knows how powerless he is, how he only managed to get Steve’s attention by chance. If he starts acting possessive, Steve will quickly switch him for prettier, nicer, more open-minded Johnny. 

“I trust you,” he lies, in the end. It's the way it is. He doesn't trust Steve not to cheat, not because he thinks Steve is a bad person. He just knows Steve is out of his league. 

In this particular moment, the wall clock in his dining room is obnoxiously loud. 

Hearing his response, Steve smiles. It's sweet and fond, and Tony thinks he could die for the softness of that smile, for that glint in his eye.

“I'm happy with you, Tony. I don't want anyone else.”

Tony decides, right then and there, that he can turn a blind eye to it all. 

  
  


-

Tony has done many things with Steve. Mostly it's hot sex, parties, and sleeping in under the half-light of the American blinds. When he can convince Steve to stay the night, he makes the most of those mornings, waking up first to take his time admiring Steve’s breathtaking beauty. In sleep, his intimidating aura is completely gone. All that remains is an innocent softness that Tony can never get enough of.

Making love with Steve is another thing altogether, though. He's so passionate, making Tony burn from the inside out. Steve is always hard and fast—Tony can't help the urge to devour every bit of him, from his neck to his nipples to the warm, wet head of his cock. He doesn't remember ever having such a strong oral fixation with anyone else, but with Steve, his mouth waters and his tongue begs him to fall to his knees, open up, and swallow himself full.

Steve only smirks, pulls on dark hair, throws his head back and comes, over and over, and when he's done, he sinks his nails into Tony’s shoulders to pull him up. “I'm going to fucking wreck you,” he promises, voice low, lips pressed to Tony's ear and fingers deep inside his ass, already stirring him up. It makes Tony cry out and buckle down. Steve always bites deep, marring the skin, happy to leave bruises in the wake of his kisses. Tony has to clench his teeth to avoid coming untouched, body glistening with sweat as he trembles softly. He can feel his own pulse sometimes. It's exhilarating. 

Tony has let Steve do many things to him and he has loved them all, but will always treasure one particular night the most. The night in which Steve finally let Tony take control, for the first and last time.

“I want to have you too,” Tony pleaded, treading carefully over each word and unraveling Steve’s body with soft caresses. Tony was already kissed raw and flushed, aware that this particular look would help him get his way. It worked.

“Just tonight. And I can't promise I'll enjoy it,” was all Steve managed to say in between kisses. His voice was low, unreadable.

Albeit reluctantly, he let Tony eat him out and slowly finger him to a shuddering climax that made the both of them white out. His muscular arms had to remain tied up to the headboard because he couldn't be trusted to stay still, and the skin of his wrists turned red from the strain.

Tony undid the silk bonds and kissed them better, adoringly, while Steve asked him to never do something like that again. His face was hot pink when he pulled Tony down with force, starting to wrap the leather of his own belt mercilessly around Tony's neck. 

“It's my turn, now,” he whispered. 

What happened next, Tony can't really remember in full. 

  
  


-

A month and a half after the first mention of Johnny, Tony has already managed to put it out of his mind. Mostly. Things are going well at home, even though Steve has been working overtime and slowing down on text responses. Sometimes he shows up, and other times, he does not. Tony thinks this is normal, that most relationships eventually reach a plateau when life gets in the way and the sex drive slows down.

He gets it. It's not realistic to expect the same amount of passion and interest all the time. Doesn't matter if he's still as obsessed with Steve as ever.

But so far, so good. He clocks in on a Thursday and it's been three days since Steve last texted—he never calls, but it's fine. There's paperwork to catch up with and several client requests for the day. He can busy himself with meetings and the shrill ringing of his office phone, which seems livelier than normal, a stark contrast to his own personal cell. 

He can ignore the crawl of his own skin, if he's distracted enough. He's almost managed, really, except he's harshly reminded of it rather abruptly. It all comes crashing back down on him once more when the head of the department is introducing Johnny to him like they're strangers who've never met.

Johnny's eyes are sharp, calculating, his manners brisk and business-like. He’s wearing suit pants that make his ass look like it belongs in the Louvre, and a fitted shirt that fits him like a dream. 

He’s exhausting to look at. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Stark,” Johnny says, his fly-trap smile nowhere to be seen on his handsome face. "I look forward to working with you."

Johnny is looking at him with a hint of something that doesn’t sit quite right. Maybe it’s a challenge. Tony wouldn’t know - he doesn’t even pretend to be a match. He’d be way over his head, and frankly, he just feels tired. It’s so tiring. All the pretending, on top of forcing himself to stop thinking about Steve, his ignored messages, his ignored existence. 

He’s supposed to show Johnny the ropes. Distracted from the heavy weight of his silent cellphone, and feeling a little lightheaded, he guides the guy through the basics. Simple things that a junior associate would probably know how to do, and other more specific tasks that pertain exclusively to their department. Johnny listens, adding perfunctory noises of understanding and agreement here and there. At times, it feels like he's looking at Tony with intent, jaw set tight and defiant. Tony continues to ignore him. There is nothing to discuss. Whatever Steve said, it was ages ago - not a big deal, really. 

It doesn't matter; just like Steve ghosting him doesn't matter, because Tony said he would trust him, and he will. 

He will trust Steve. 

When he pauses for a sip of coffee, his hand is not entirely stable around the cup handle.

Johnny's phone keeps going off all the time. At first, its vibration is barely there, and Tony doesn’t think much of it. That’s how young people are with their phones, nowadays. 

But as they move through the cubicles and towards the meeting room, he recalls the way his own ringtone had driven him mad during his first days dating Steve. That’s how he’d discovered his boyfriend’s penchant for artistic nude pictures, much like the one that had caught his eye in the group chat. Only, when they were addressed to Tony, the cutting angle went much further below the waist.

Tony swallows, tense. He’s explaining to Johnny why they don’t dispose of old post-its on the meeting room’s whiteboard, when he finally decides to face him. That nagging sensation on the side of his head, right where Johnny’s insistent eyes keep targeting him, is what makes him snap. 

He doesn’t know why he does it. But Johnny’s phone goes off again, and he moves an inch, just so he can catch a glance at the glossy screen.

A very familiar body poses for the picture that Johnny just pulled up. There’s a flash of pecs and lovely v-line, dusted with fair hair, all leading down to a gorgeous, rock-hard cock.

Tony knows it well. He’s been hooked on it for months.

Johnny catches him looking, but the triumph never shows in his calculating eyes. Tony doesn’t know what sort of expression he’s making, but it must be pitiable - or at least, that’s what’s reflected on the other man’s regretful grimace. Well, it’s too bad. 

After all, Johnny had said he _didn’t mind_.

-

Tony associates everything with age. He feels unattractive because he's eight years older than Steve. He thinks his skinny body will always remain the same way, unlike Steve, who changes every week and becomes more toned, more handsome, more… powerful. Tony's embarrassed to admit his left knee will never be the same. He's got a little heartburn. He's just old. Not really ancient, but old, and no doubt much older than Steve. Older than James. Older than Johnny.

Older, older. 

-

Steve doesn't get in touch. Tony knows he's treading dangerous waters. 

There's always a moment during his nights, while he's already in bed, undressed and vulnerable, when a cloud descends upon his mind. The cloud is deep, dark and heavy, impossible to diffuse. It sucks away all the light in a room that's already pitch black, turning the shadows around him into something tangible and real. 

Tonight, that cloud is made of thoughts. 

They manifest gradually but violently, first as mere suggestions of possibilities, then as images, and suddenly they become fully-fledged lucid dreams. Tony pictures himself crying, defeated, alone. No actual tears fall from his eyes, but the ghost of pain materializes behind his eyes all the same. His chest fills up with pressure, and he can breathe, but the raw, scraping pain makes him wish he didn't. Tony isn't sure he could ever describe the ache he feels, so unlike everything else. He knows what it's like to choke, burn, and drown—but none of them are this. 

_This_ is something like a hollowness, pulling him in from within. The void opens up when it's time to sleep, and a ruthless force eats away little pieces of him. The thoughts grow fiercer. He pictures himself wailing, pleading for forgiveness, convulsing. The scrape of pain is now dry. He wonders if his heart could grow weak from it, perhaps falter and seize. 

Tony is afraid. 

This is not sadness, or longing, or any of those simple feelings that come and go. This isn't heartbreak. This is something that requires intervention. A disease. Normal people don't curl up in bed like he does, and they don't think about swinging from trees. 

He despairs. He's old and weak—he's breaking, chipping away at the edges, losing himself in a way that hurts and terrifies him, but worst of all, it's pathetic. And it all comes down to the source, he thinks. 

Tony's a pathetic little man, embarrassing and weak. If Steve has seen him like this, even the barest hint of it - there is no way he wouldn't leave. 

Steve likes the sensual Tony, Tony with the sly smile and welcoming mouth, and Steve could maybe even love the Tony that never says no. 

He can't let himself be seen. 

Tony can't lose Steve. He swallows the thick, sticky cloud and comes out the other side a little jaded, a little raw. It's daytime and Steve might call, might even come home soon, so he gets up on his feet and gets started on breakfast. 

**Author's Note:**

> For those who might be confused: this is an AU that's very loosely based on 616, hence, the tag. The only elements I brought from 616 are everyone's general appearance and Tony's personality and mental health issues. I did not mistakenly tag this, it's not MCU.


End file.
